Summer is Late, My Heart
by Polomonkey
Summary: It's the hottest day of the year and Arthur meets an old friend at the beach. Then it's sun and sand and love, as usual.


Warnings: Tiny bit of bad language

A/N: I've been wanting to write trans Merlin for ages, so here's some fluff set at the beach

~oOo~

The 2nd of September happens to be the hottest day of the year and Arthur has big plans. After a whole July and August of cloudy skies and cool breezes, he's finally taking that trip to the beach he's been waiting for since summer began. There's not a lot of downtime in Arthur's life and so he takes the whims of the weather very seriously. The endless rainy days had started to wear on him this year. The 2nd of September was like a beacon of hope in front of him, something to get him through the drudge of everyday life.

He books Friday off work, much to his father's displeasure, who sees actively choosing to spend time away from the office as some kind of great moral weakness. But for once Arthur doesn't care what his father thinks. He's got a cool-box full of beer, he's got the new Donna Tartt novel, and he's got the pair of Ray Bans he so optimistically bought three months ago. If it's the one hot day they're getting this year, he's determined to enjoy it.

When he arrives at the beach, he spreads out his towel in a secluded spot, peels off his t-shirt, and lies back with a contented sigh. It's only eleven in the morning but the sun is already beaming down. Nothing relaxes him like a day spent doing nothing, and he can almost feel the tension draining away from his body as he picks up The Goldfinch and starts to read.

He's only about twenty pages in when a shadow falls across his book.

"Arthur? Arthur Pendragon? Is that you?"

He looks up into the grinning face of a dark haired man, probably about his age. He's wearing a purple t-shirt and some garishly patterned swim trunks, but all Arthur can really see for a moment is a pair of piercing blue eyes.

He stands, quickly. Eye to eye he instantly realises two things; firstly, the man is definitely familiar, and secondly, he has no idea where he knows him from.

"Hello," he says haltingly. "Nice to… see you again?"

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" the man says, and fortunately he doesn't seem offended. There's a teasing smile on his face.

"I am cheating a bit, to be fair."

"Cheating?" Arthur says and a horrible thought strikes him. "God, are you a stalker or something?"

The man laughs loudly.

"That's not a very nice way to talk about the person who shared their sandwiches with you all the way through primary school."

Arthur frowns. Apparently he knows this guy from school, although the only person he ever remembers sharing sandwiches with was his childhood best friend Emily…

Fuck.

This is Emily.

In a rush he remembers what Morgana told him last year, how she'd run into Emily at a company event only Emily wasn't Emily anymore, she was…

Merlin.

Arthur wasn't as uncouth as Morgana liked to imply. He'd gone home and done his research the night she'd told him, and a process of educating himself began. He found the books in the library were too far out of date so he'd relied mostly on the internet, reading blogs and articles and following people on Twitter who seemed to know their stuff. He learned about trans history and gender identity and preferred pronouns. He'd even practised saying Merlin in his head instead of Emily, he instead of she.

It wasn't all just theoretical. Morgana mentioned that Merlin had wanted to see him again. They hadn't been in touch since they went to different schools aged fourteen, although they'd been inseparable before then. Merlin told Morgana it'd be nice to catch up with Arthur. And Arthur wanted to. He just had to get all his facts straight first.

Morgana had met up with Merlin twice more after that, and conveyed his good wishes on to Arthur. She was pretty impatient about it the last time.

"When are you gonna call him?"

"Soon," Arthur had said. "I just wanna make sure I don't put my foot in it when I do."

Morgana rolled her eyes.

"You don't need to be the world authority on trans rights to have a conversation with an old friend, Arthur."

"I don't wanna screw it up."

"Well it might help if you started thinking of him as an actual person instead of a representation of all trans men anywhere, ever."

She was right, Arthur knew she was. But there was still this small, shameful part of him that was… scared. What if he said the wrong thing? What if it was just unspeakably awkward? What if he unintentionally made Merlin feel bad about himself?

That had been over three months ago. And now Merlin was standing in front of him.

"Merlin," Arthur says clearly and takes a moment to thank God that in his sudden nerves he didn't blurt out 'Emily'.

"So Morgana has been passing my messages on? I was beginning to wonder."

There's a slight reprimand in there, but the cheeky grin is still on Merlin's face, so Arthur knows he's not in trouble really. Even if he feels like he deserves to be.

He takes a second to study Merlin. Some of the features he remembers from childhood are still present; same pale skin, same sticky out ears, same black wavy hair. But Emily used to wear hers past her shoulders, and Merlin's is cropped short. Emily's face was softer, with the baby fat of youth, and Merlin's is harder, all angles and planes. Emily was always a slightly chubby girl and Merlin is slim, and rangy.

He realises he's staring and quickly recovers himself.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, work's been crazy busy."

It sounds weak to his own ears and he hastens to make amends.

"But, uh, if you're not doing anything now?"

He gestures to the little spot he's set up.

"I have beer."

"Oh, well, if you have beer. Be rude not to."

Merlin favours him with another grin and takes a faded blanket out of his shoulder bag. He spreads it on the sand next to Arthur's towel, then drops down to sit on it.

Arthur follows suit, grabbing a beer to hand to Merlin and picking up his own to take a long drink, hoping to quell his nerves.

"So, wow, it's been what, ten years?" Merlin says. "You've changed. Not as much as I have, obviously, but…"

Arthur laughs, a little surprised to hear Merlin make a joke like that. It does away with some of the residual awkwardness he was feeling.

"Yeah, you've had a haircut, right?" he says and Merlin cracks up.

"Several, actually."

"Suits you," he says and he isn't just talking about the hair any more.

They catch up for a while, mainly talking about old school friends and where their lives had taken them after university. Arthur talks about his work at his father's PR firm, and his recent attempts to find a new job in a different field. Merlin talks about his work at a local housing charity, and his dreams of pursuing photography as a full time career.

The one thing they don't talk about is Merlin's transition. Arthur doesn't want to bring it up if Merlin doesn't, and the conversation is diverting enough that he doesn't think about it as much as he'd expected.

He does find odd little flashes coming into his head from when they were younger; him and Emily walking home together, passing notes in class, eating lunch in the canteen. Stuff he hasn't thought about for years, suddenly made fresh by his old friend's reappearance.

They've just about finished career talk and gotten onto what music they've been listening to lately, when Merlin sets down his beer and takes his t-shirt off.

Arthur had noticed that Merlin's chest had looked pretty flat, but his t-shirt was loose and Arthur couldn't be sure whether he was binding or…

Clearly not.

Despite his best efforts, Arthur falters in mid-sentence and can't quite get his flow back.

He looks down at the sand in front of him, clearing his throat.

"You can ask, Arthur," Merlin says flatly. "It's honestly more awkward when people pretend they haven't noticed."

Arthur blushes deeply.

"Sorry, I just-"

"Ask," Merlin says and the tone of amusement has crept in again, causing the knot in Arthur's stomach to loosen slightly.

"You had top surgery?" he says, glad that he remembered the right phrasing.

"Yeah. Over a year ago now. Took that long to save the money."

"The NHS wouldn't-"

"Waiting list was too long and my local authority was no good about funding anyway. It's a total postcode lottery. I got T on the NHS though, been on that a while."

"T is testosterone, right?" Arthur says carefully.

"You've done your homework," Merlin says, and he sounds almost impressed. And then Arthur opens his big mouth and ruins it.

"Did you get the other surgery?" he blurts and Merlin freezes slightly.

Arthur could have kicked himself.

All the blogs he read warned cis allies against asking intrusive questions about medical procedures. They explained that trans people were so often objectified by society; reduced to nothing more than their genitalia. A lot of people were only interested in the physical side of their transition.

If it's a rude question to ask a cis person, they advised, then it's a rude question to ask a trans person.

Arthur should never have been so impolite. He shouldn't have even assumed that Merlin wanted or cared about bottom surgery, plenty of trans people chose not to have it. He knew all this and yet he still went ahead and said it anyway.

"Sorry," he mumbles, looking out at the sea. For a while there it seemed like they were heading somewhere good and now he's blown it.

There's a light touch on his arm.

"Stop freaking out," Merlin's voice is gentle. "I don't mind you asking a few questions. It'd only be annoying if you asked them every single time I saw you for the rest of our lives. I don't mind explaining stuff as long as it's not the only thing we ever talk about."

Arthur feels an unexpected warmth at the assumption in Merlin's words that they're going to be seeing each other again. Maybe he hasn't screwed everything up after all.

"Let's… let's just get your questions out the way now, okay? Like one of those AMAs on Reddit. Five minutes. Then we can move on to talk about something else, like why the hell you thought Spiderman board shorts were an acceptable choice for a grown man."

"Er, how dare you?" Arthur says, grasping on to Merlin's olive branch. "Spidey's the best."

"Embarrassingly wrong," Merlin says, "but we'll get to that in a minute. To answer your question, no I haven't had any of the other surgeries and I'm not going to. The breasts were… I just hated them."

He starts picking up handfuls of sand, dropping them down on his legs.

"They felt so wrong, all the time, I couldn't stand them. I just wanted them gone... When I woke up from the surgery, I was so happy. I've literally never regretted it."

He brushes off his legs and turns to look at Arthur.

"But after that, I… I already felt like a man. I didn't need anything else. I'm happy the way I am now."

Arthur nods.

"Was it painful? The surgery?"

Merlin shrugs.

"As much as any operation is. I was weak for a while after; I had to move back in with my mum for a bit. And there's always a chance that your nipple grafts won't take, so I was dead worried about that. I kept calling my mum to come look at them and tell me if she thought they were okay, which I'm sure was fun for her."

Merlin throws a handful of sand at Arthur's lap suddenly.

"You can look at my chest you know, it must be hurting your eyes making sure you never glance below my chin."

The teasing look is back on Merlin's face, and Arthur concedes defeat.

"Am I that obvious?"

"If you're just having a quick look, and not gawping then it's fine. I got this surgery so I could feel comfortable with my top off after all; I don't mind a little appreciation now and then."

Arthur snorts.

"And you used to call me arrogant."

"And can be persuaded to do so again."

Arthur lets his eyes wander down Merlin's body. There are two slightly curved scars about half an inch below Merlin's nipples; pink and pale.

"They've faded a lot," Merlin says, following his eye line. "They used to be bright red."

"Do you put something on them?" Arthur says.

"Yeah, this thing called dermatrix gel really helps. And you do this massage thing on them to keep the tissue moving. Some people's go invisible after a couple of years but I don't really mind if mine do. I like the way my chest looks now anyway, scarred or not."

Arthur nods. The scars are not at all unpleasant to look at. He weirdly wants to reach out and stroke one but that's totally inappropriate so he keeps it to himself.

"What was it like when you started taking T?"

Merlin grimaces.

"Like a second puberty. The equally fun male version! Put on weight, got acne, started to sweat like a son of a bitch… well you know how it goes."

He winks cheekily at Arthur.

"How dare you?" Arthur says. "I never had acne."

"You're forgetting I was round your house the time you tried to use Morgana's concealer to cover that spot on your chin."

Arthur's mouth drops open; he had completely forgotten.

"Oh, she was so mad! And her skin was like three shades paler than mine, so it looked ridiculous."

He starts laughing and Merlin joins in.

"I did try to tell you."

"You absolute liar, you told me it looked good!"

"Okay fine, I was enjoying myself a bit."

Arthur passes Merlin over another beer, then opens one himself.

Merlin takes a long drink before speaking again.

"No, but for all the bad stuff, taking T was actually kind of amazing. It starts to work pretty quick and you can really see the changes. Some stuff you have to do yourself though. My voice got deeper but it's still higher than most men's. I'm still learning how to talk at a lower register."

"It's weird…" Arthur starts and then trails off, not sure if he's about to be offensive again.

"That I have to work so hard for all the things that have come naturally to you in life?" Merlin says drily.

"No. Yes. I mean… yeah, I guess."

Arthur's never really put much thought into "being a man" before. Other than his father and his football mates using it as some kind of weird admonishment when they felt he was falling short ("man up!"), his gender identity isn't something he's ever spent much time mulling over.

"I don't know it means to be a man," he says finally, not caring if it sounds stupid because it's true.

Merlin laughs.

"You think I do? Before I came out as trans I had all these ideas in my head about what men were and how I could prove I was one. But now I'm far enough along to see it was mostly a load of bullshit stereotypes. I haven't felt the urge to pick any fights or stand on street corners catcalling women or anything."

He pauses and then corrects himself.

"Not that I'm interested in women, anyway."

"You're gay, then?" Arthur says, taking in this new piece of information.

"Yep," Merlin says, wiggling his toes in the sand.

"I'm bi," Arthur says, and Merlin stops wiggling.

"Really? I thought… I've only ever seen you with women."

"Are you familiar with the term bi, Merlin?" Arthur says sarcastically. "Women are, in fact, not off the table."

And then Merlin's last sentence sinks in.

"Wait, what do you mean you've seen me with women?"

It's Merlin's turn to blush.

"Well after I saw Morgana I may have… I sort of found your Twitter page, and maybe I've looked at it a few times. Seen some of the pictures you post."

"So I was right all along," Arthur crows. "You are a stalker."

"Remember what I said about calling you arrogant?" Merlin huffs.

"Anyway, my Twitter is totally a corporate thing. My dad set it up for me. Hence why there are lots of shots of me and attractive business women at company events."

"Corporate? I wondered why it was such a boring account."

Arthur raises an eyebrow, cockily.

"If you play your cards right, I might give you my personal account name."

"Wow, dreams really do come true," Merlin says in a falsetto and Arthur shoves at his shoulder.

Merlin's skin is warm to the touch, Arthur can't help but notice. He suddenly realises they've been in the sun for nearly two hours and Merlin hasn't replenished his sun cream.

"You need to put this on or you're gonna burn," he says, reaching into his bag for a bottle of lotion.

"Me? What about you?"

"I can actually get a tan, in case you hadn't noticed. You've got skin the colour of milk, you're gonna fry soon."

"Oh, milk, that's nice. How flattering."

"Will you forgive me if I rub it on for you?" Arthur says, taken aback by his own boldness.

He can't help himself. He wants to touch that warm skin again, feel it under his hands. There's a funny feeling in his stomach, something that's been building since the moment Merlin sat down on the blanket, and he's knows exactly what it is. It's the same feeling he got when he first saw his first girlfriend Gwen, or his uni boyfriend Elyan, or even the intern in the office who gives him a gap toothed smile every time she brings him a coffee. He's attracted to Merlin.

The weird part is he's known Merlin a long time. And yet he technically only met him today. It's the old and the new mixing together that sends a fizz of excitement through his stomach.

Merlin looks slightly hesitant when he nods his assent and Arthur's fingers are trembling ever so slightly as he pulls the sun cream out of his bag. He starts with Merlin's shoulders, noting with a rush of tenderness that freckles are already starting to appear on his creamy skin. Merlin shivers a little when Arthur's fingers first make contact.

"Sorry. Um, cold."

The sun cream's as warm as the canvas bag it's been lying in but Arthur doesn't argue. A part of him is hoping that Merlin's reaction to his proximity might indicate his feelings aren't entirely one sided.

He massages the lotion down Merlin's back, savouring the feel of his body under his hands. He's disappointed when there's no more to be done, he can't really justify putting it on the places Merlin can reach himself. Then a sudden idea strikes him and he reaches out, using both hands to dab a bit on Merlin's ears.

Merlin squawks in protest.

"What you doing?"

"Come on Merlin, you know they're gonna catch the sun."

"Oh, I wondered when we were gonna start with the ear jokes. Staple part of our childhood, that was."

"I think they're cute," Arthur says brazenly. "I always did."

Merlin pauses, like he's contemplating something.

Then he pivots his body to face Arthur.

"I used to have a crush on you, you know. Back then."

It's both surprising and not surprising at all.

"I didn't have a crush on you," Arthur says honestly, and Merlin's face crumples slightly.

"No, wait, listen. That was then. Now…"

He pauses, feeling that excited tingle run through him again.

"Now I might."

"Yeah?" Merlin says hoarsely. "You don't care about-"

"No," Arthur says firmly.

He really doesn't. Morgana was right all along. That small sense of loss he felt when he first heard that Emily didn't exist anymore was completely ridiculous. Emily had never existed. It had always been Merlin, even if he couldn't make anyone see it back then.

Merlin appears to be thinking hard. Then a very slow smile spreads across his face.

"And what makes you think I fancy you?"

"Well you're human, for a start," Arthur says casually and Merlin groans loudly.

"And he's completely blown it. So close to the finish line…"

"Shut up, motor-mouth," Arthur says, jumping up. "Let's go swimming."

"What, now?"

"No, next Tuesday when it'll probably be hail-stoning. Yes, now. Get up."

Arthur doesn't wait for an answer, reaching down and pulling Merlin to his feet.

Then they're racing down to the sea, yelping as the hot sand touches the soles of their feet, hand in hand.

They wade into the water, running out as far as they can with their feet still touching the bottom. When they're waist deep, Merlin lets go of Arthur's hand to splash water in his face.

Arthur retaliates, pushing Merlin down until he's completely immersed in the water.

And Merlin emerges, dripping and laughing, and looking happier than Arthur ever remembers seeing him. So carefree. So… right, somehow.

He moves forward.

Merlin's lips taste like salt-water and they part beneath Arthur's. They kiss delicately, tenderly, sea water trickling down their faces and the sun on their shoulders.

When they draw back, Merlin rests his head on Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur puts his arms around him.

For a moment it's just them, two tiny figures in the whole of the ocean, framed against the horizon.

Then Merlin takes Arthur's hand and leads him back to the beach.

~oOo~

When they're packing up the stuff, Arthur reaches out a hand to rub lightly along the back of Merlin's neck, slowly turning pink from the sun.

"I know we already did the Q and A. But I had one last question."

"Alright, nosy, go on then."

"Why 'Merlin'?"

Merlin sits back on his heels, contemplating.

"I could tell you the practical reason, which is that my mum always called me Em anyway, so I thought it'd be easier if she could change it to M in her head, less of a sudden change. But the real reason is that I got really into the Arthurian legends when I was sixteen. Some of the legends said that Merlin could appear as a man or a woman, and I really liked that. Plus I wanted something a bit quirky. Does any of that make sense?"

Arthur smiles, because it makes perfect sense to him. Then a thought crosses his mind and he adopts a serious expression.

"And you were probably thinking of me as well," Arthur says solemnly. "Obviously the original Merlin's main purpose in life was serving his Arthur."

Merlin's mouth drops open.

"You seriously cannot be that much of an arrogant-"

He breaks off when Arthur starts laughing, unable to keep a straight face any longer.

He only laughs harder when Merlin shakes up the remaining can of beer and sprays it in his face. They're both soaked by the time they've finally picked up their gear and started to head back to the road.

"So. Hottest day of the year's over," Arthur says.

"Yeah. Rest of the weekend's meant to be pretty wet and miserable. Me and my flatmate were gonna stay in and play board games but she's been called into work."

"That's a sad story, Merlin," Arthur says innocently. "If only you could find someone to take her place."

"If only," Merlin agrees. "Preferably someone who's ridiculously over competitive and an insanely sore loser."

"I actually happen to know someone a bit like that," Arthur says.

"What a stroke of luck. You should tell him to swing by."

"Well give me your number and I'll pass it on to him," Arthur says smoothly.

Merlin takes the phone from his outstretched hand and taps his number in.

"I'll text him the address. Tell him to bring some nice wine. I'm sure he can afford it."

"Minx," Arthur says.

"You like it," Merlin says, then kisses him and walks away.

Arthur watches him go, touching his hand to his lips.

He suddenly doesn't care if it rains every day from now until Christmas. It doesn't seem to matter anymore.


End file.
